


holding on to good

by kirksjames



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Oh god, call 911
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirksjames/pseuds/kirksjames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mario's gone and Marco has a picture of them hanging on his wall and he wants to throw it away because it isn't fair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	holding on to good

**Author's Note:**

> LOOT AT [THIS](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/B0W4srQIAAANpZn.jpg), JUST, OK, THAT'S ALL.

Marco was chewing on his sandwich, watching Pacific Rim for the hundredth time when he heard his doorbell ring. He sighed, almost wanting to yell at whoever it was to go away and wondering who could possibly be bothering him in a Sunday morning. He was still kind of hangover from the night before and all he wanted was peace and quiet, but he got up anyway and went to open the door and when he saw who it was, he almost rolled his eyes, but restrained himself from it because it wasn't like Mario deserved Marco’s annoyance at this time of the day, “don’t you have a key?” he asked, and well, maybe his voice showed a bit of his annoyance.

“Yeah, I do but I forgot it in the car and I was too lazy to go all the way to grab it” Mario smiled brightly, purposely ignoring Marco’s exasperation and entering Marco’s house like it was his own.

“It’s Sunday, Mario Götze, and really early” Marco closed the door behind him, going back to his couch and noticing the movie was already over, he grimaced, stuffed the rest of his sandwich down his throat and said “and you need to stop being lazy, because you know you have to walk like 10 steps until you get to your car”

"I didn't understand a word you just said with all that sandwich in your mouth and I got you a present" Mario said happily, he tossed something on Marco's lap before he could even look at Mario to ask what it was.  
  
"You know my birthday is only in 3 months, right?" Marco sarcastically asked, he knew Mario was rolling his eyes at him just how he knew he was keeping himself from bouncing his leg like he always did when he was too excited to contain himself.

"Open it or I will" Mario said, smacking Marco’s arm to make a point.  
  
Marco looked at the wrapped square-framed-whatever-it-was thoughtfully for a moment, just to annoy Mario a little more. The thing was kind of heavy and he was also too excited wondering what it was so he opened and what he saw made his heart skip a bit and bury itself inside his rib cage.  
  
"Now that I’m thinking about it, it's kind of lame, isn't it?" Mario pouted a little, nudging Marco’s leg with his foot so he would look at him.  
  
Marco stared at the picture for so long he lost track of time and didn't listen to what Mario said. It was a picture of them, big and framed in glass. It didn't have anything special about it, but to him it meant the world. It was after one of their last games and they scored together _(brilliantly as usual)_ , he had his arms around Mario and they were talking quietly to each other, like any other day _(he doesn't even remember their conversation)._   Marco was surprised, he never, not in a million years, would have imagined that Mario would frame it and give it to him as a present. He also never thought that that were things that he still didn't know about his best friend.  
  
"Marco?" Mario asked softly, not wanting to bother the other man but also too eager to know what he thought about the present.  
  
"I-" his voice came out choked and he had to swallow down hard and start again "I love it. Really, thanks Mario" and he finally looks at his friend and the smile they share isn't one to be forgotten soon.   
  
~*~*~*~

Later, when Mario left, Marco sat on his couch and stared at it, still not believing his eyes.

At first, he thought about hanging on his living room wall, but everyone would ask about it and he probably wouldn't know what to answer, he could almost see himself all flustered, speaking nonsense and avoiding eye contact. And everybody already thought they were an item, the picture would only give them proof of it, no doubt about it.  
  
So he walked around his house for a while, looking at every wall, wondering if it would look good on it. He honestly felt stupid, thank God he was alone. Until he found the perfect place; his trophy room and he already had in mind where he would hang it, there was a space on the wall that the picture would fit perfectly, like it was waiting for it all along.

~*~*~*~

Without realizing it, sometimes Marco found himself in his trophy room, staring at their picture. He didn't know how and why his feet would bring him here every time he wondered around looking for something to do. He’d run his hand on the cool glass, smiling to himself.  And later he would call Mario, and they would talk for hours, like they always did, it was like they've already talked about everything there is to talk about, but in the end they always found something to say to each other. Or even, Mario would come by Marco’s and they would just watch some movie together, without saying a word, because sometimes silence spoke for itself.

  
~*~*~*~

  
When Marco heard his phone ring, he was preparing himself to go to one of his night walks, but he knew who was calling so he didn't ignore the call and just left.

“Hey, bro” he said, stopping by his door, with a hand on the doorknob ready to go out.

“Hey, are you busy?” Mario asked, his voice sounding a little strange to Marco’s ear, “can I come by?”

“No, yes.” Marco answered, “I was going out for a walk, actually, but you can come, I can just go later” Marco was concerned; Mario never asked to come by before. Sometimes when Marco would go out for a walk or whatever, he would come home later and see Mario sprawled on his couch, eating something he found on the kitchen.

 _“No, that’s ok, we can talk later.”_ Mario said meaning to hang up but Marco didn't let him.

“Come already, man, you’re making me worry”

_“Yeah, ok, alright, bye”_

When Mario hung up, Marco felt his heart sink and bury itself somewhere inside of him and he knew something was up but he didn't want to think about it.

~*~*~*~

“Marco, we need to talk” Mario said, sitting down by his side on the sofa and avoiding looking in the other man’s eyes. Marco knew that it was coming, sooner or later, and he also knew Mario was delaying their conversation since he arrived because it couldn't be good.  
  
“Sure” he coughed, looked for the remote control but Mario was faster and he was already turning the TV off before Marco could even blink. So it was serious.

But Mario didn't move, he kept pointing the control to the TV, frozen in his seat, his shoulders tense.  
  
“Sunny?” Mario slowly turned his head at the sound of his nickname, looked at Marco and his eyes were sad, but they were also hopeful. Marco just got even more confused and began to grow wary.  
  
"I wanted to tell you first because you're my best friend and I..." Mario sighed heavily trying to calm himself down, "I talked to my agent” Mario paused, looked at his hands that were resting on his lap, holding on to the remote for dear life. “He said that Bayern is interested in me and you know Pep Guardiola coaches there and you also know that my dream was always to be coached by him and…” he paused again, to breathe this time and continued, now looking hopefully at Marco, wanting him to understand, “and I said yes.”  
  
As soon as Mario says Bayern Marco stops listening. He wants to erase that from his mind because he can't believe it's true. He doesn't want to believe it's true. His mind goes blank and he thinks he's going to pass out for a minute but all he does is stare at the empty space separating him and Mario. It feels like the open sea and if he tries to walk through it he will just drown. And all he wants to do is make that space even bigger because he thinks he'll start crying or just stare at Mario until he goes away leaving him there with his open mouth still trying to say something.  
  
He doesn't cry, though. But his eyes are burning and he can't find any words to say that would make sense right now and he wants to pretend that this never happened. He thinks about pinching himself so he'd wake up and find out that this is only a bad dream and Mario is lying next to him, like he always is at weekends because he is always too lazy to go home so he stays at Marco's place and they don't care about sleeping together because they are just friends _(Marco keeps saying that to himself we're just friends because he never wanted to admit that maybe he's in love with Mario)_  
  
He opens his mouth but everything that's trying to come out of it is a pathetic _don't go_ or a really silent _please stay_ but he doesn't want to embarrass himself, even if Mario has seen him at his best and worst. Although deep down he also knows that the excuse of embarrassment it’s just a way to cover the real reason he doesn't want Mario to go.  
  
Maybe he’s in love with him and he hasn't seen that before because Mario was always there and he never thought how it would feel like not having him there. Maybe he always knew he loved him. He thinks back on so many things they did together and so many things they said to each other. Maybe all along they were already something and he didn't see it. He just needed this punch on his face to realize it.  
  
And he doesn't even know when this happened and when he fell in love with his best friend.  
  
He thinks maybe it happened when Mario first looked in his eyes. He smiled so bright to him he never thought his heart could jump so high. He never thought someone could smile so sincerely.  
  
Maybe it was when they first celebrated a goal. The way Mario hugged him and whispered in his ear, "I knew we would be great together."  
  
Maybe it was the way sometimes Mario fell asleep on his shoulder while watching some boring movie Mats had recommended.  
  
Or it was when Mario gave him that picture, which is hanging on the wall of his trophy room.  
  
Marco’s been quiet for too long and he knows he has to say something before Mario starts to get worried but he can’t look into his eyes yet because he knows he will fall apart entirely _(he doesn't even know how he kept himself together for this long)._  
  
The thing is, he didn't know what to say. Well, he just found out he’s in love with Mario and in the worst way possible. There wasn't a word in the world that could describe what was going on in his mind and in his heart. So he decided to stay quiet; he kept his head down until he heard a loud sigh, footsteps and a door opening and closing.   
  
Marco felt something break inside of him. Mario left, took half of Marco to Munich with him and he didn't have the courage to even look in his best friend's eyes to say goodbye.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Marco knows he's not a perfect person, there's many things he wishes he had never done. He knows he's no saint but he felt like he was being punished by something and he didn't know what could possibly be.

He wonders if it's because of that time when he used his parent’s house to throw a party without their knowledge, or when he stole a chocolate bar from the convenience store when he was 12 and forgot his money at home and he really wanted chocolate. Or because he keeps insisting that he's straight even though he knows that he isn't and that he's lying to himself and everybody else because he's scared, and even more now, that he knows and is certain that he is in love with Mario. "Ok, Marco, now you're just being stupid and not making sense" he said loudly to himself, banging his head on the wall like that would clear his mind of the fog of rage that was clouding his thoughts.  
  
He was angry. He was angry at Mario for moving, he was angry at that goddamn picture that was now lying on the floor, in the middle of all the glass. He just wanted to throw that in the trash and never think about it again. But he is angry at himself, especially, for not realizing before what Mario really meant to him and also for thinking that they would play together forever. He knew, deep down, that that wasn't possible and that they both would choose their own paths. This is football. You have to aim high and if you don't aim high enough, your dreams would be scattered all over the floor like the glass from the framer that he broke when he threw it at the wall. And that made Marco laugh, because he knew now that he was fucked beyond reason.  
  
He got up and walked out from the room, leaving everything as it was,  knowing he was going to hurt his barefoot with all the glass on the floor, but he didn't really care, the pain was actually welcomed.

~*~*~*~  

The first days of training without Mario are the toughest for Marco. On the pitch, he feels like something is missing, an important piece that will keep everything holding together. He’s always looking for Mario, sometimes he even sees him in the corner of his eyes but he knows it’s not him so he tries to calm himself down and starts everything over again. Marco notices the way Klopp is moving around the pitch, in an exasperated pace and he can almost hear him yelling but it doesn't come because Klopp also knows that something is missing. But eventually everything works out and something or someone _(he tries not to think about it)_ fills Mario’s space on the pitch and that hurts Marco the most.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
It’s Friday and Marco has the rest of the week off and he doesn't know what he’ll do with that.  
  
He thinks about calling Mario and asking him to come over so they can watch something or play some FIFA and just waste some time together but he realizes that Mario is gone, he isn't a call away anymore and his chest hurts so much with the thought that he can barely stand it.  
  
He needs air; he can feel his throat closing and his eyes burning, so he opens his balcony and just stands there alone with his eyes closed, like he’s waiting for this bad dream to be over. He can feel the cold air on his skin making him shiver but he doesn't care because he doesn't have the energy to care about anything right now.  
  
Mario is gone. He is not there anymore. He left. It feels like he'd drowned in cold water when he realizes he won’t hear Mario’s laugh from the other side of the pitch, he won’t make that _I’m-trying-not-to-laugh-at-you-right-now-because-that- was-really-lame_ face when Marco tells a terrible joke but he would laugh anyways because that’s just how Mario is. He won’t forget any more clothes at Marco’s home like he always does when he goes back to his house after spending the entire weekend at Marco’s and Marco would wash them and deliver to him when they'd meet again in training with a huge smile on his face and Mario would thank him and say, “you’re the best.”  
  
 _It’s not like he’s dead, I can go visit him_. Marco tells himself, more like reassures, he isn't even angry at Mario, his anger passed days ago; he just really misses him. He isn't dead but it sure feels like it.

~*~*~*~  
  
And Marco still found himself in his trophy room, staring at their picture together. He framed it and hung it on the wall again. He really thought about throwing it in the trash, but he knew he would regret it later, and even Marco thought he could never forgive Mario again, he didn't deserve this, they still were, after all, best friends.  
  
But the smile that would be on his face by now was replaced by a grimace. And the urge to call Mario was replaced by the urge to never listen to his voice again.

It went like this for some time, Marco missing Mario every day, but he would get angry every time he thought about it.

Mario was already in Munich at this time and Marco never said goodbye.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
He gets a call from Mats on Saturday morning asking to hang out. He doesn't hesitate on saying yes because Marco needs a distraction and Mats is easy to talk to and he makes Marco happy when he doesn't feel like being happy.  
  
They’re playing FIFA and Marco’s losing.

  
“What’s happening, bro?” Mats asks without taking his eyes off the screen, “you used to be good at this.”  
  
Marco just groans at him and says, “My team sucks!”  
  
“Oh, so you’re saying Germany sucks, ok, right,” he laughs at him but doesn't say anything else, but Mats senses that something really is wrong with Marco; so he pauses the game to look at him and waits until he looks back. Mats has this thing, he doesn't talk to you unless you’re looking straight into his eyes or else he’ll think you’re lying to him, “What’s happening, really?”  
  
“Nothing is happening,” Marco tries but he knows that won’t work on Mats.  
  
“Marco.”  
  
Marco still isn't looking because he’s afraid Mats will see through him and everything he’s trying to keep inside and locked away, he thinks this way he’ll forget about it and just move on with his life. And he answers as sincerely as he can manage “I don’t know, bro” he puts his hands on his face and rests his elbows on his knees, “something is missing.”  
  
Mats pats his back and sighs because he knows, “have you called him?”  
  
“Who?” Marco asks stupidly, he isn't really paying attention, his eyes are fixed somewhere down his hall, so Mats just rolls his eyes and answers slowly like he's explaining something to a 5 year old.   


“Mario” Mats sighs, “You should.”

“Why?” now Marco is looking at Mats, “I mean, he left.”

“Yes, he did.” Mats rests his head against the back of the couch, closes his eyes, like he means to take a nap, and adds “but it’s not like he’s playing _soccer_ now, he still plays football.”

Marco chuckles at that and when he realizes they are both leaning against each other, almost choking themselves with laughter. And Marco decides that maybe he can give Mario a call and ask him how’s everything going and who knows; they can be alright in the end.

~*~*~*~  


Marco was looking at his phone when started ringing; he’d been looking at it for some solid 25 minutes, trying to find the courage that he has left to call Mario. He recognizes the ringtone and the first thing that he thinks about doing, it’s ignoring the call, but he just can’t do that, so his grip tightens  around his phone when he sees that Mario’s number is still saved as “Sunny” and presses answer.

But again, he doesn't say anything, he can’t find any words, it’s like he doesn't know how to speak properly around Mario anymore, so he just breathes and waits for his friend to be the first to say something

“Marco?” and when Marco hears his voice, saying his name, everything is forgiven and forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> oh man, idk if this is any good or bad idk i just had to write it and oh god  
> also i'm sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes!! english isn't my first language and you know, any feedback is appreciated, thank u very much, you're all angels


End file.
